


030. Death

by BadWolfonBakerStreet



Series: BadWolfonBakerStreet's fanfic100 challenge [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfonBakerStreet/pseuds/BadWolfonBakerStreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There aren't many moments when Sherlock would gladly give up his work in favour of being somewhere else. This is one of those moments and he didn't make it in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	030. Death

With slow movements John put the kettle on. He heard Sherlock in the living room, finally calling back Mycroft who had tried to reach him for hours. They had been busy with the search of the kidnapped wife of a judge. Of course Sherlock figured out that she was in on it, the kidnapper actually was her lover and they were trying to elope with the ransom. But it took him longer than he would have liked and now he was annoyed with the uncreative criminals of the world once more. And now John demanded he call his brother back. 

Sherlock went silent. That was not a good sign. John waited for the water to boil, poured the tea and left the kitchen. Sherlock's hand was still clutching the phone but was no longer at his ear. Mycroft's voice came faintly from the speaker. Sherlock's eyes were wide, he was getting paler then he usually was and his face was void of expression. 

John sat down next to him on the sofa, prying the phone out of his fingers and ending the connection. Grabbing Sherlock's hand he softly asked: “What happened, love?”

“Mummy is dead.” His voice was flat when he answered. There was nothing of it's usual smoothness in it. “Mycroft tried to reach me before it happened so I could come over and s... say goodbye.” His voice broke and his body crumbled. John wrapped his arms around him and Sherlock pressed his face into his shoulder. John could feel hot tears soak through his shirt.

“I wasn't there, John. I was out chasing a stupid greedy person. Instead of being by my mother's side when she died.” John looked down and found a familiar expression on his lover's face. 

“Don't go there, love. You couldn't have known. You're not to blame.” There was no answer, Sherlock just sobbed and clutched John's arms.

“I never told her I love her.” John pressed a gentle kiss to Sherlock's forehead. He thought of the fragile old woman who had greeted them when they visited for Christmas last year. As soon as she had laid eyes on her youngest son her face beamed with pride and love and she had pulled him into a hug that seemed far too crushing for a woman of her figure. And he thought about how Sherlock had hugged her back, with a warm smile spreading across his face and then holding on to her longer than a hug usually took.

“Oh, she knew, love. She knew.”


End file.
